


Underneath It All

by ActWriteLoveDie



Series: The Tale of Two Lieutenants [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActWriteLoveDie/pseuds/ActWriteLoveDie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James has a wardrobe malfunction of sorts on the battlefield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath It All

"God fuckin' shit...!"  
  
James isn't sure if he's offended or not that neither Shepard nor Vakarian bother to so much as look his way when he makes the exclamation. He isn’t surprised, though. The Commander’s focus is ridiculous when she’s in the heat of battle. And Scars... it’d take a Reaper dropping right on his head to get him to look away from his scope when he’s lining up a shot.   
  
Okay, sure, nothing is actually wrong enough for either of them to actually _need_ to take notice but it’s the thought that counts or something like that, right?  
  
Vega manages to duck just as the Ravager starts back up with it’s three-shot bullshit from its cannons. He grits his teeth and growls in frustration. It’s more than just his fortification barriers that are malfunctioning; he doesn’t have any shields at all. One well placed shot from _any_ Reaper right now and he’ll probably be down for the count for good. He’s damn good at what he does but he knows no one would be spending money to bring him back to life like they did for Shepard.   
  
What makes it all worse is that he can see the Kodiak waiting for them on the other side of all these damn Ravagers, Marauders and Cannibals. He has to mow them down to get to safety. This isn’t going to be easy.  
  
“Fuck it.” The Lieutenant sucks at his teeth and curses under his breath. Without any more thought on the matter, he starts priming his frag grenades and throwing them out into the fray. One after another, he tosses them, hears the explosion then chucks another. It’s either run out of ammo or leave himself open to dying. Considering the yells, wails and whirs that mix in with the distinct sound of a grenade going off, he doesn’t need to look out from cover to know they’re doing their jobs.  
  
“What the hell are you doing, James?” He hears his commander’s stressed and disapproving tone and just smirks to himself.  
  
“Gettin’ our asses out of here faster, Lola.” He knows that she won’t like that answer so he tosses his last one before she can order him to stop doing just that. Then he grabs for one of his carnage rounds and shoves it into place in his Claymore and stands. Most of the enemies are down for the count but the Ravager starts to turn towards him when his upper body comes up from behind his cover.   
  
He’s not going to give it time to respond, though. With all of its sacs destroyed and swarmers pouring out of it (something that he’ll always hate seeing and will never be able to eat for a short while after having to watch each time), he knows the damn thing is holding on by a thread. He aims the firearm and sends off the highly explosive round, watching it make contact with the wounded target. The impact and detonation is enough to take out the final threat and the pesky creatures that were coming out of it.  
  
Malfunctioning suit and need to survive aside, that was pretty badass.  
  
All three members of the squad take off in a sprint for the LZ. There aren’t any more visible threats but the last thing anyone should do is underestimate the Reapers. It takes a bit of effort to jump over the obstacles and step through Reaper guts everywhere and not trip or slip-and-slide to the ground but the three of them manage to get their safe and sound.  
  
The glare he gets from the Commander when they’re situated in the Kodiak makes him feel a little less safe, though. She finally speaks up when Esteban takes off, heading back for the Normandy. “That was the most reckless use of resources I’ve seen from you since Mars, Lieutenant. I’m not happy about it.”  
  
James meets her angry stare with a grin. It’s a habit that he’s sure drives Shepard up the wall but he’s always been himself and he isn’t changing for anyone, not even her. “Yeah? And just like back then, I saved the day.”  
  
She opens her mouth but stops before she actually says something. Damn, it must’ve been something pretty bad for her to censor herself like that. He watches her jaw clench then relax a few times before she speaks up again. “We’ll be talking about this some more later tonight, Vega.”  
  
As cryptic and down right scary as that all sounds, James keeps the grin on his face and nods. He could explain it all to her but that requires giving up the information that his armor is acting up and that’s some embarrassment that he can do without. He definitely won’t say that with Scars around. The Turian would never let him live it down. And if Esteban got wind of it? Now _that’s_ something he’s more intimidated by than the talk he and Lola will be having later.  
  
It’s not too long before they’re stationary in the Shuttle Bay and everyone is jumping out. James lets out a sigh of relief and climbs down himself, quickly moving to his work station. He knows that he’s excused from his normal duties for the rest of the day and the following twenty-four hours after a mission but this not only gives him a chance to avoid an awkward elevator ride between himself, Garrus and Shepard but to see about fixing his armor while no one is paying him any attention.  
  
As soon as everyone has cleared out, he sits down on the edge of the workbench and starts working on the clasps holding his armor together. They don’t budge. He puts a little more effort into it and still manages to get absolutely nowhere. James takes a deep breath stretches as much as the suit allows and flexes his few times, trying to get some extra blood pumping in them. He refuses to be defeated by his own goddamn armor.  
  
After twenty-five minutes of swearing and pulling at them to the point that he’s actually sweating, he realizes that he’s been defeated by his own goddamn armor.  
  
He needs some help. Vakarian and Shepard are both no-gos because of the reasons he didn’t just explain his predicament and avoided being in the elevator with them earlier. Liara’s Shadow Broker knowledge wouldn’t be of any help in this situation and EDI is a loudmouth and the info would eventually get back to Shepard. Javik? Javik just wouldn’t give a damn. That leaves a total of one person.  
  
“Define ‘stuck,’ LT.” Lieutenant Commander Williams sounds completely unamused. The fact that she responded so quickly to his e-mail- with a call instead of another e-mail no less- gives the Lieutenant a little bit of hope.  
  
“I can’t get myself out my damn suit, Ash.” James grumbles, still fiddling with the latches to no avail, “When I tried to boost up my shields, everything went nuts and now it’s got me on lock down. It won’t let me out.”  
  
“You don’t need to go to the bathroom or anything, do you?”  
  
Yeah, there’s definitely some amusement in her voice. James rolls his eyes hard even if she can’t see him do it. “This isn’t funny.”  
  
“Oh, but it kinda is.” Williams counters with a chuckle. James clenches his jaw and sighs loudly. That seems to get the message across that he’s not seeing the humor in it all. “Relax, I’ll see what I can do, Lieutenant. I’m not the most tech savvy person on the crew, y’know? I’ll find out what I can figure out and get back to you. Just... sit tight.”  
  
He sighs again, this one out of resignation. “M’not goin’ anywhere. If people see me walkin’ around in my gear, they’re gonna start asking questions.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll bet. I’ll call back when I figure out something.”  
  
The channel closes after that and James just sits on the edge of the work bench looking down at his hands. Some really outrageous thoughts go through his head when he’s alone like this. What if it’s permanent damage and they can’t get him out? What if the only way out is to cut him out? They better not cut him trying to do that. What if people find out about it and he becomes the laughing stock of not only the Normandy but the whole Systems Alliance Marines? What if-  
  
“I assure you your current dilemma isn’t half as bad as you’re probably thinking it is right now, Mister Vega.”  
  
James’ head snaps up. He knows who is speaking to him before he they even make eye contact but there’s still that base need to see the face that goes along with that voice. Vega just so happens to be pretty attached to the whole package that is Esteban. Well, not Cortez’ actual package. He’s never seen that. And attached may not be the right word since they’re just-  
“You’re still thinking too hard, Lieutenant.” Steve points out with about the same amount of amusement in his voice as what Ash had earlier. It doesn’t grate him the same way, though. “I’m pretty sure it’s about something else since you’ve replaced that frown with that prize-winning smile of yours.”  
  
James scoffs but it’s mostly because he needs a second to figure out what to say to that. “Whatever, man. Williams was supposed to keep this to herself.”  
  
Steve hums and nods as he starts to look around Vega, appraising the situation. “She tried to. Unfortunately for you, there aren’t that many members on this ship who have armor that reinforces itself with Focault currents that can be purged and sent straight to the gloves for added punch. Pun intended.”  
  
Vega sighs but says nothing else about it. Mostly, he’s trying to not feel... something over the amount of attention Esteban is giving his body at the moment. Sure, it’s for the sake of getting his armor off but it still is making him feel a little weird. Not necessarily in a bad way... just one that the pilot might find a little inappropriate.  
  
Steve looks up with a look on his face that almost makes him think that the man can read his thoughts. James just does his best to not look like an idiot when he shrugs. "So what's the diagnosis?"  
  
Cortez shakes his head and sighs. "The 'diagnosis' is that you've been so busy maintaining and repairing everyone else's armor and weapons that you've apparently forgotten to do the same for your own."  
  
James scoffs again but takes a moment to think about it. He can't even remember the last time he worked on his own stuff. He's been out on just as many missions as the rest of the squad, if not more than one or two. It makes sense that his personal effects would finally start to show signs of wear and tear. Did it really need to be in the middle of a fight, though? It's not like he goes around wearing it when there's not the potential of him being shot at or anything but it would've been nice to catch the problem before it was a problem. He can't blame anyone but himself for it.  
  
"Yeah, alright." Vega lowers his head a little and watches Esteban's very capable hands as they start feeling across the the armor. He can't actually feel the fingers move but he can feel the slight shift in pressure from them. Those fingers are always working on the Kodiak or on some weapons or typing up reports and order requests. They're very capable fingers. Fingers that James really wouldn't mind having touch his skin once he's finally out of this hunk of junk. Hopefully that's soon. Hopefully the other lieutenant isn't actually a mind reader or all of this would be an extra level of embarrassment that James _really_ doesn't need right now.  
  
"What're you thinking about, Mister Vega?" The words come out so casually for such a loaded question. "The only times you're this quiet is when you're in some serious deep thought."  
  
"About how fuckin' stupid I am for getting into this situation." It was the first thought that popped in his head that wasn't what he was actually thinking about. Of course, when the marine realizes what he just said, he wants little more than to take those damn words back. They were a true assessment of how he was feeling but Steve didn't need to know all that.   
  
"Oversights happen to the best of us," Cortez states, not even bothering to look up from where he's tracing something invisible across the armor and pausing right over the clasp to his chestplate.  
  
"Not to you." James quips back.  
  
"Yes to me." Steve actually glances up that time. "I'm no better than anyone else, Lieutenant."   
  
"Yeah, well, you've got a hell of a way of covering it up before anyone notices. The only thing anyone can fault you for around here is workin' too hard, Esteban." It gets quiet after that and Vega has the strong urge to fill up the empty air with his voice again. "You really do need to take a break every once in a while, man."  
  
"I take my breaks when I can." The pilot looks up at him with a small smile, "Remember our little trip around the Citadel not too long ago?"  
  
James smiles back, thinking back on their little not-date. "Yeah, that was good times. I’m still mad that it's takin' so long for them to make my damn clothes."  
  
"Good things come to those who wait, Mister Vega."   
  
James knows he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. He's definitely one of the last people you want to put near tech and expect it to work. Still, he's pretty sure that last statement meant more coming from Cortez than what could be taken from face value. He clears his throat just for the hell of it and shifts a bit. The movement leads to him getting a grunt from the older man and a hand on his waist, trying to tell him to hold still. The younger soldier suddenly feels like he did back on that day when they were both out together on the Citadel. It feels like things are happening and they're going right over his head. It's not a great feeling, especially since he's pretty sure what it all means. If he's right, it's something he'd be more than happy to make happen for real. It doesn't feel fair that Steve is the only one really participating in this little dance they've been doing for what feels like forever. He deserves a part in all of this. It involves him, too.  
  
James opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out except a surprised grunt. The pressure around his body lessens significantly the second he tries to speak. Cortez smiles up at him. "One down. I think I figured out what the problem is."  
  
Vega lets out a sigh of relief. He knows he wouldn't actually be stuck in the suit forever but there was that stupid paranoid thought in the back of his head that kept telling him that it was a definite possibility. There was a white knight on a horse painted on his armor but the hero in this situation is definitely Esteban. Frankly, he can't think of a better person to save him.  
  
Steve grunts and strains a bit when he tries to work on the other part that was holding the chest piece together. After about a minute of not making any progress, he sighs. "I was worried this might be the case."  
  
James frowns, "Yeah? What's wrong? You're not gonna have to cut me out of this, are you?"  
  
"No, nothing so severe." Though the words should be comforting, the tone that the shuttle pilot says them doesn't make them feel that way. "I need to get to it from the inside. Try not to freak out or anything while I do this."  
  
It takes a moment but he figures out exactly what Esteban means when he stands up and his hand reaches in between the armor and his body. The hand is warm- no it's /hot/- but far from unwelcome. Not just because it means he'll be free from this mess soon either. Seeing this as an opportunity to get them both on the same wavelength and even out the playing field, he grins and shrugs. "I don't have a problem with it if you don't, Esteban. Feel away."  
  
Steve's hand stops moving and his eyebrows shoot up farther than James has ever seen before. It feels nice to be the one catching /him/ off guard for once. "I'll... do just that."  
  
James' grin grows wider and he leans forward a bit. "It's an open invitation. Not just for when you're done with this. Just so you know."  
  
Steve chuckles but it seems to be more than out of being entertained by the aggressive flirting. "Duly noted, Lieutenant, now I'd appreciate it if you actually _held still_. Then I can get you out of this and we can discuss further touching."  
  
"Heh, I can do that." James chuckles low. Esteban looks back up again and gives him a look. He's not sure if it's because his laugh made his chest move or because of something else but he's ready to give the other man full permission to give him a heated stare like that as often as he wants. It just makes him grin even harder as he speaks up one last time. "Sorry."  
  
"We'll see about that." Cortez mutters under his breath as his fingers wheedle their way into the small crease right near the middle of James' ribcage. The larger lieutenant did his best not to squirm or think about what that hand so close to his chest was doing to other parts of his body.  
  
"There." Steve sighs as his hand presses even harder in. A few moments and a few grunts later, the chest plate of Vega's armor falls off and to the floor.  
  
James lets out a deep breath, feeling like he can properly inhale and exhale now. "You're a lifesaver, Esteban."  
  
"Don't get too appreciative yet, Mister Vega. That just might be the easy part." James makes a face and Cortez picks up that the marine isn't following his train of thought. He points down and James licks his lips. Steve rolls his eyes. "Not that. Your leg plates are next and I'm pressure sure those might be a little more snug than what I just took off.  
  
He thinks that area is tight right now? Esteban doesn't know the half of it.  
  
The pilot decides to leave that for last, apparently, since he takes a half step back and moves on to the pauldrons and armor protecting his shoulders, arms and hands. He makes quick work of them, having found the trick to it, but he still seems to be taking his time where he can. It's mostly spent in quick exchanges between a set of blue eyes and a pair of green ones. And low humming noises that James doesn't really understand the meaning of but he feels more than comfortable guessing what they're /meant/ to be about. It's distracting because his mind goes to fun places. Places that wonder what other kind of noises he can pull out of the other man. Places that wonder how long it's going to be before he can return the favor by propping Esteban up on something and slowly stripping off what he's wearing. Distracting or not, these are places that he really doesn't mind going.  
  
"Something tells me this is going to be a little rough." Steve states as he puts some space between them. He's obviously looking for where the points he needs to work on to get the last pieces of the armor off but Vega is fine with pretending that he means something completely different and that he's staring between his legs for the same thing. In all honesty, he's not sure a differentiation needs to be made.  
  
"Alright," Steve says with the clicking noise of him sucking on his teeth, "I think I'll start with this tree trunk then move over to the other."   
  
Cortez sits up on the bench next to James and pats his lap. James turns to the side and puts his closest leg up right where the other man wants it. He grabs one of the tools from the table. It's meant for working on the guns but the tip is just thin enough that it should be able to get in between the crevices and wedge it open. There's some grunting and straining on Esteban's part but he manages it. Vega lets out a small sigh as the clasps open and he can slide his leg free. From there, he turns some more so that his legs are on both sides of Steve's body. It's most for convenience since he still needs to the get the centerpiece and the other leg free but the grin that's on the man's face shows just how much he doesn't mind being in this position: his pilot working on something between his legs. Steve picks up on it just fine but says nothing as he works. Faster than the first one, the other leg is free. As Vega pulls it away, Cortez runs one hand over it, feeling the warm, hard muscle in his thigh before moving to the final piece.  
  
"I think this part is going to need some special attention."  
  
"Yeah?" James raises an eyebrow and smirks. "What kind of 'special attention'?" Steve doesn't answer. Instead, he turns his own body so that they're face to face. Then, he places his hands behind himself and pushes his body forward until his legs are right under Vega's and their bodies are close enough that they're inches away from being chest to chest. James growls low in his chest. "I like the way you think, Esteban."  
  
Steve stays silent as he picks the tool back up and presses it right over the claps that not all that far from Vega's covered navel. With it securely in place and starting to wedge into the small spot, Cortez does something that the other man doesn't predict. While his hands work on the task, his upper body leans in until their faces are so close that James can feel the pilot's breath on his own lips. He brings his hand forward and runs his index finger along his Esteban's jaw. The smirk he gets in response makes him give one of his own. He licks his lips then adds his thumb so he can hold Steve's chin in a light pinch and tilt it up.   
  
Their mouths finally meet and, despite the heated glances and suggestive talk, it's surprisingly soft. Both of them want the other badly but they're fine with how their lips slant together and lock with only the slightest of pressure to tease them both into wanting more. There's time for them to go all out. Right now, in the middle of the Shuttle Bay on top of Vega's work bench? Not the time or place.  
  
They'll save that for another day.  
  
Their mouths separate when James groans and lets out a small huff. Steve got the centerpiece of undone and, finally, blood is free to flow down there the way he really wants it to. Cortez chuckles and leans in for another kiss, this one with more substance to it but much shorter than their first. He starts to shift around like he's ready to get off of the table but James is having none of that. He grabs Esteban's hips and pulls him up until the other man is sitting in his lap, with their bodies finally flush and pressing together.  
  
"We should probably-"  
  
Vega shakes his head. "M'not gonna jump your bones right here in the Cargo Bay, Esteban. I just think we should talk first. Since, yanno, we're here and we got stuff that needs to be talked about."  
  
"So eloquent, Mister Vega." Steve makes his jab, though there's no heat in his words. "But I agree."  
  
James is sure Cortez has something to say but he wants to start first. So he does. "The reason I didn't come to you with my, uh, situation was 'cause of everything you've done for me. You're always there for me, man. I didn't want you to think that I was takin' advantage of you. You're my best friend. I care about you a lot. And... I dunno. You're special to me, Esteban. I want you to be happy. I don't know if all you want is someone to release some tension with or what but I kinda wanna be more than that, you know? I can't say for sure if I can make you as happy as I want you to be but I really wanna try, if you'll let me."  
  
Steve smiles and shakes his head. "You're something else, Lieutenant, you know that?" James starts to frown, not sure what that means. Before he can even get all the way there, Cortez kisses him again. It’s not gentle or passionate. It’s just a simple one to say _stop thinking so hard, Vega._ “You basically said everything I was going to say. You said it better than I was going to. Leave it to you to make me look bad after making fun of you for your explanations.”  
  
James smiles again, this time without any lust lining it. “I meant what I said, Esteban. I wanna make you happy.”  
  
“The fact that you want to already has me smiling like this. I think it’s safe to say you’re off to a good start.”  
  
Not one to pass up a chance to ruin a good moment, James’ little grin comes back. “Now, come on. We’ve done enough talking. We should go somewhere and work on the fun part of this relationship thing.”  
  
Steve laughs loudly and it only makes Vega grin harder. “You’re too much.”  
  
Did he just?  
  
“I’ve been told that bef-”  
  
“No more talking, Lieutenant.”


End file.
